


found a boy in the castle

by orpheus_under_starlight



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: (yes it counts), Childhood Trauma, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Found Family, Healing from trauma, Hurt/Comfort, N gets a proper father figure, Psychological Trauma, they bring anthea and concordia into it later, touya is touko's brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 15:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19428676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orpheus_under_starlight/pseuds/orpheus_under_starlight
Summary: It takes a year or so for them to find each other again.





	found a boy in the castle

**found a boy in the castle**

It takes a year or so for them to find each other again. 

-

Reshiram carries him through the night with a gentleness he’s still deeply unaccustomed to. N watches the dark ocean below, rippling in the moonlight, and tries to count each wave as they go—to keep time in his head, to measure the distance, to calibrate his internal sense of geography and match their location on the ocean to accompanying regions. By his reckoning, Oblivia is something like eight hours behind them now.

N looks up at the moon, then down again, at the ocean.

_Peace,_ Reshiram hums, her whole being thrumming with power. _I have carried you this far._

“I don’t doubt you,” he assures her. Means it.

She turns her head to give him a dry look. _Nor should you doubt yourself._

N shrugs. Then, because the sight of the ocean from this high up is starting to make him feel a little sick, he buries his head in her feathers and tries to be grateful for the gear that lets him stay comfortably attached to her when they’re moving faster than any plane he’s ever seen.

_We will discuss this._

“Okay,” he says. It comes out more like _ofthay_ through his mouthful of feathers.

-

Touko goes three hundred and sixty-eight days as Champion before she’s done waiting around.

Alder doesn’t seem to be terribly surprised when she comes to him in Flocessy Town, a letter in her hands and an apology in her eyes. She isn’t one to speak without cause to people she’s not in the habit of interacting with often; when Alder accepts the letter, she dips her head in thanks and turns to go. 

“Say, Touko,” he says.

She stops and turns slightly. _Yes?_ she seems to be asking, some impatience in her gaze.

“...No, never mind.” He crosses his arms and smiles at her. “I have confidence in you. When you find him, bring him around for tea, you hear?”

Touko’s eyes widen comically. Did she think nobody had stumbled on her saying goodbye to her green-haired prince? Lucky for her, he and Cheren are the types to keep things to themselves. He’s never seen anyone take their duty as a sibling in all but blood so seriously—Cheren had refused to leave her alone, called in their blonde friend, at which point the two kept vigil with Touko until she was ready to go.

Yeah. The future will be alright.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, kid! Go on, get going,” Alder laughs, putting friendly hands on her shoulders and spinning her around to face the exit.

It takes a second, but Touko turns again, grins at him, and waves. When she walks out into the summer sunlight, she looks happier than he’s seen her in a long, long time. 

-

“Mom.”

“Going already?”

Her daughter looks at her with eyes that are far too serious. Not for the first time since Touko’s journey began, she finds herself thinking of Touko’s father—all the ways they’d changed each other, the things they had sacrificed in order to make their lives work. Even now, he’s working hard somewhere in Oblivia, waiting for the seasons to change before he wanders in the direction of home. Travel is his lifeblood, and it has been since they were two children dancing around each other in Kalos, laughing under its pale constellations.

Touko is twenty and bears her father’s taciturn demeanor like a cloak. The three of them—Touya was out on assignment in an area without signal and missed it—had agreed on their last call that being based out of Unova wasn’t half-bad. Touko has stepped gracefully into adulthood, for the large part, and she thought her journey had been productive. 

As for her own place in things, she’s grown to enjoy assisting Juniper with her research. 

Life is good, so to speak.

But for her daughter, there’s something that’s still missing. Touko doesn’t speak much, but the night she and Cheren and Bianca had flown back into Nuvema after the Plasma debacle, she’d curled up on her mother’s lap for the first time since she was a little girl and told her everything that had happened on her journey. And then some. A good ninety percent of what ended up coming out of her mouth had been taken up by green hair and stolen moments, philosophical arguments and teamwork in the face of extreme weather, and then, finally, with a very soft voice, a kiss and a farewell.

There is something she’s never spoken of to Touko: the boy she’d wistfully described as a shooting star had actually come to visit her, before taking off into the unknown. He begged her not to tell Touko. He understood the pain he had caused her, he said, with many profuse apologies, but if he was going to do right by her, he had to go. He had to find answers. Reshiram thought it would be best for him to go somewhere far, far away, Oblivia or Almia or even Fiore, and he agreed. But he’d wanted to introduce himself and apologize first. Her daughter was brave and brilliant, and his own troubles were not her fault, and he knew what it was like to have a parent have difficulty understanding you.

She got the distinct sense, honed by her own years of experience with a father that had come to realize too little far too late in life, that _difficulty understanding_ might have been something of an understatement.

_You’re in love with my daughter,_ she’d said, thoughtful. When he dipped his head and said _yes_ without a hint of hesitation, his only tell the pink flush climbing up his neck, she was impressed. _N... you’re a kind young man. Go and find what you’re looking for. But first..._

Her husband’s number was taped onto the fridge in Touko’s hurried scrawl, the numbers curved and unnecessarily looped in places. The paper margins were filled with her doodles. She grinned to herself as she pulled it off, folded the tape neatly into the corners, and handed the paper to N. He seemed to recognize her daughter’s handwriting. _What...?_

_My husband’s cross-transceiver contact information. Touko’s father. If you come across him on your travels, and you’re still searching for answers, don’t be afraid to ask for advice. You’ll be able to pick him out of any crowd—he’s taller than you, and Touko looks just like him. Hair and all._

_Really?_ he blurted, eyes wide, and she laughed.

_Yes. He grew it long for her, you know. Although I think he braids it back on the side these days._

He scrambled to his feet. The motion looked wild and untamed, and his hair, bouncing with it, only completed the look. Then he bowed very low—for a moment she could see the elegance of his supposed royal upbringing, but he had to put a hand on his head to keep his cap on and it passed. _Thank you very much. For everything._

_Stay safe on your travels, N. It’s been a pleasure to meet you._ There was something desperately lost and sad in his eyes on that day. He bid farewell to her, and then he was out the door. 

She’s thought about that now and then, with her Touko running about Unova accomplishing higher and greater things than she’d dreamed possible for herself, talked about it with her husband as he trodded through marshes and grasslands. 

It hasn’t escaped her notice that Touko’s cap had suddenly and mysteriously morphed to become monochrome and bulky, that the first Pokémon she ever took on her team besides Samurott looked at her with unusual adoration for companions that had just met, that even as Champion there was some lingering dissatisfaction that drove her to wander Unova and uncover ancient ruins with a single-minded steadiness. Her father’s daughter in so many respects—and the wanderlust is just one more of them, fuel to their slow-burning fires.

Touko’s hand lands in hers. “Yeah,” she says. “I’m going. Tomorrow, though. Early. It’s a long ways to Alola.”

“Then take care. And try to be patient.” She grins when Touko wrinkles her nose at the implication— _what, me, Mom?_ —and leans into her, tucking her feet beneath her legs. Her daughter smells of fresh earth and wild grass, and she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

-

Contrary to what everyone seems to believe, Touko isn’t devastatingly heartbroken, nor is she actually looking for N.

Directly.

Assumptions really do make an ass of you and me, or so the saying goes—she’s fond of her older brother’s addendum to that: _but mostly you. It makes you the ass._

She laughs to herself. Pokémon Rangers like Touya do sometimes tend to bear the brunt of peoples’ expectations. Samurott tilts his head at her from the water in a silent question; she shakes her head with a smile. “It’s nothing, Icarus. Just a funny thought.”

The truth—and that phrase will never not be laced with a deep irony to her—is that she had only waited this long to leave because everyone would’ve been deeply concerned otherwise, blaming what was really an itch to see the world on an inability to stand all the locations she'd encountered him at. Bianca and Cheren grew up in Unova, and like most Unovans, they hold a deep affinity for the land. Among the Gym Leaders she considers friends, the story’s a bit more mixed, but most of the people living and working within the apparatus of the Pokémon League love the region enough to spend most of their time there. 

Touko can’t really say the same. Sure, she’d chosen Unova for her Pokémon journey, had moved there with her mother four years ago in preparation and to get situated in a place that would give her father and brother somewhere to come home to on holiday, but as nice as it is, it isn’t everything. 

Alola’s black sand beaches, on the other hand? She could get behind that.

Tragic, really, that Cheren and Bianca wouldn’t understand why she’s so intent on traveling without filtering it through the lens of heartbreak. There is something deep in the soul that reverberates with every new experience—a resonance and an echoing, something about living beyond your own borders that carves out more space in you, shows you how to see new perspectives and honor different ways of life. 

Curled up at her side, Zoroark snickers. _The beaches, but not the Tapus? You said you were coming here because you wanted to meet them._

That’s the other thing.

She doesn’t have to pretend that she has no clue what her Pokémon are saying if she’s not around people who know her. It’s not something that she speaks too much about—the less people who know, the better. At least, that was what the family had agreed on when they figured out just why she took so much to Touya’s Servine (Serperior now) as a toddler. 

N had known. She thinks. He’d had a way about him, an uncanny perception, and even if he’d never truly interacted with people on the same level that he had with Pokémon, he never was an idiot. There had been about three too many piercing looks near the end of things, twitchy hands like he wanted to pull her away to somewhere more secluded to talk about it. Or talk at her about it, analyzing her in real time, trying to figure out just what made her tick. Even in complete disagreement with her philosophy, he’d remained utterly fascinated by her existence. 

It’s really something, to be looked at as if you held the power to walk through the constellations just by being yourself. By breathing in the same air space.

A small smile pulls at her lips. Behind and somewhere to the left of her, Darmanitan is coaching Liepard and Unfezant on the basics of tracking down items; Woobat is playing with Samurott in the water, while Krookodile is stretched out on a towel she’d brought for him, happily soaking in the sun he’d missed while she’d been exploring the dead volcano over on Melemele. All of these Pokémon, now her treasured friends, had once been befriended by N. They’d fought against her. It was how she knew that they were the same ones—they approached her in the wild without raised hackles, asked to be taken along. 

Darmanitan had even brought her a Berry as a peace offering. His sense of honor is adorable.

On the grassy knoll just overlooking the secluded beach, Zekrom sits tall and proud, eyes closed. He’s dozing away, although he’d probably try to pass it off as communing with the other super-ancient, powerful Pokémon present in Alola.

“I love you all,” she says to the sun, the wind, the sky. Zoroark throws a pleased arm around her and she laughs again. Her fingers run through his fur, light and unafraid. “Truly. I’m lucky to get to travel with you, my friends.”

_Well, I should hope so,_ Liepard says, temporarily abandoning the lesson to press her nose into Touko’s hair. _We’re lucky to get to travel with you, dear._

Touko grins. “I bought you all Poffins and Poké Beans at the last store I stopped by. The deluxe kind.”

_Touko! Touko, have I mentioned lately that I think you’re the best Trainer ever?_ Samurott says, looming over her and blocking the sun out. He’s gotten to her suspiciously fast for someone who’d hardly been paying any mind to her before she mentioned the magic word.

“Was it sometime in the past month?” she asks. Samurott whines. She feels a bursting sort of joy in her heart as she reaches up and gently pulls his head down to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. 

Sun and wind, earth and sky. Her heart is at peace. She only wishes N could be here to see the world she’s made.

He needs more time, though. He has her Xtransceiver number—not that he uses it often, but he’d left her a message when word reached him of her trip to Alola, and she’ll never say anything about it, but she listens to it every night before heading to sleep.

_“I hope you’re not looking for me. Not that I don’t want to see you, but I’ve never been to Alola. I hear the Pokémon there have a wide variety of form changes, though, so I might visit sometime... Reshiram? Why... why are you licking my hair? What do you mean, biting the bullet—you haven’t bitten a bullet, have you? Oh dear. I’m sure that level of iron intake can’t be healthy. Please, let me check—”_ Click.

Yes, she decides, snickering. He’s the perfect man.

-

_“Sorry I didn’t send a reply sooner. I was exploring a volcano,”_ her recorded message is saying, and suddenly N wishes he’d sprung for that upgraded Xtransceiver with the fancy audio settings, because it sounds a little tinny despite the deep warmth in that quiet voice. _“Don’t worry, I’m not running after you. I’d be happy to see you, though. Always am. If you’re curious, I’m going to be in Alola for a while—I like it here. Lots to explore, and one of the Professors is a friend of Fennel’s, so I’ve helped her here and there. After that, though, who knows? Maybe Sinnoh. Maybe Almia. My brother’s there, in Almia, I mean. He’s a Ranger. You’d get along. Actually, you might make a good Ranger. Hey, Icarus, what’s up?”_

_“N! Come visit already! Zoroark and Darmanitan miss you,”_ her Samurott says, his voice sounding very close to the recorder. N holds back a laugh. Samurott has always been extremely fond of him.

_“Oh, come on, Ica. He’ll come when he’s ready. We promised, right? No pushing. N needs to do what’s best for him right now.”_

Samurott makes a noise that sounds halfway between a snort and a whine. _“But_ I _miss him.”_

_“Me, too.”_ His heart throbs at the note of longing, the simplicity and the ease with which she says it, as if it is natural and expected that two former enemies would miss each other so dearly. It’s an equation that doesn’t entirely make sense, no matter which way he turns it around in his head. He’s starting to think maybe it’s not meant to. Like a quadratic with a negative square root for an answer. _“You’ve seen the news reports, though, right? He’s helping people and Pokémon all over. I’m excited for him. I think he’s doing a good job.”_

“Touko,” he breathes out, because all his doubts, all his desperation, the broken pieces that act more like jagged shards—

_“Whenever he finds us... We’ve found a lot of cool places to go with him, haven’t we?”_

_“That’s right,”_ Zekrom’s voice rumbles, powerful and majestic even under the tinny influence of his terribly old Xtransceiver. _“You, however, need your sleep, my champion.”_

_“It’s not that late... is it?”_

Pointed silence. Touko makes a noise after a moment.

_“Huh. I’ll be damned. Lost track of time. Good night, N. I hope you’re sleeping better these days.”_

_“Sleep well,”_ Samurott chimes in. The recording ends.

N leans back in his seat, ignoring the fascinated look from a man several tables over, who he sort of recognizes as the resident Kalosian Pokémon Professor. His hand goes to pull on his hat, only to remember that he isn’t wearing Touko’s at the moment; it’s tucked safely in his bag. _Reshiram,_ he says, glancing out the window. He folds his hands loosely over his stomach instead. _Let’s go to Alola._

He is polite enough to ignore Reshiram’s exasperated _finally,_ but not polite enough to hide his smile at the sight of an overawed little girl bowing before her, babbling something excited in Kalosian. The girl hurriedly unzips her lunchbox and holds a Poké Puff up to Reshiram, who melts immediately and bends her neck to get to the girl’s level. N has to stop himself from chuckling when a little hand lands gently on his friend’s head and strokes the feathers between her eyes with extreme care. Reshiram’s eyes close and she leans into the touch as she savors the Puff with the kind of relish she tends to reserve solely for Mago berries.

“Pardon,” says a voice, and N jumps. The Kalosian Professor holds his hands out with an easy smile. “My apologies. I did not mean to startle you, friend. I just... is that Reshiram, outside the cafe?”

“Yes, although I think she’s preoccupied at the moment,” N says simply.

“And... if I may ask...”

He shrugs. “Reshiram chose me.”

Judging by the way the Professor’s brows raise, he’s not doing his best at passing it off as something run-of-the-mill. “Indeed. I saw you arrive. I’ve never seen a more personable being of ancient power.”

“She thinks my hair is messy,” N says by way of explanation for Reshiram making an event out of trying to lick his ponytail into some semblance of order, tugging a little self-consciously on his bangs. 

The Professor laughs. Not unkindly, he thinks. But then he drops into the chair opposite N’s and leans forward, extending a hand. “Augustine Sycamore. Your name is...?”

“N Harmonia.” Having learned enough of Kalos to know that it’s expected, N takes Augustine’s hand and shakes it firmly. “Did you want to meet Reshiram?”

“Yes, now that you mention it. But I’m curious about you as well. You’re the hero thwarting the schemes of villains all over, aren’t you?”

N shifts. “...I don’t know about _hero,”_ he hedges. It’s a bit of a loaded word, for him.

“Pfah! No use denying it. You’re a popular subject on the news right now,” Augustine says. N realizes his smile is... kind? Kind. Somehow, it’s still shocking. “Nothing drives Kalosians crazier than a mystery, and those you help won’t tell the media your secrets. Naturally, you’ve made the nation curious. You seem to be the sort to enjoy your privacy—I thought I’d invite you to my lab, help keep you out of the public eye. Only if you find it favorable, of course.”

His collar feels a little hot. The kindness of people all over will never quite fail to leave him poleaxed, totally bemused by easy smiles and selfless action. These days, the world he grew up in feels like a distant bad dream. “Lab? Oh, right, you’re a Professor. What do you study?”

Augustine’s eyes gleam. “Well, truthfully, it’s more half a lab, half a sanctuary. I split my time between researching Mega Evolution and caring for Pokémon that need specialized attention. It’s my passion, you see! To help Pokémon further their growth, and reach their full potential... nothing in life is more rewarding.”

“That’s true,” N agrees, finding a smile growing on his own face. There are more people in the world that truly love Pokémon than he could’ve conceived of a year ago. “I... think I would like to see that, if it’s not a bother. Although I’ll probably set off once night falls.”

“Ah, yes. Going to see your _cherie,”_ is the genial agreement.

_“Cherie?”_

The Professor stands with a laugh, waving the waitress over and paying for N’s coffee before he can protest. “Your significant other. The one who left you that call,” he clarifies when N still looks confused.

It takes a moment for N’s brain to agree to make the connection. He flushes, unused to anything like affection being spoken of so casually. “Thank you for the coffee. You mean Touko.”

“Is that her name? She sounds remarkable. Speaking the language of Pokémon as a human—that’s no easy feat, you know. I’ve only ever heard of a few dozen humans who are able to do that.” 

“I can, too,” N finds himself saying, his voice too shy for his own tastes, and Augustine’s eyes widen. Tentatively, N smiles. No ridicule, no derision—just fascination. Professor Birch in Hoenn had been the same way. “She’s the only other person I’ve ever met who could hear their voices the way I do.”

After a moment of shock, a wide grin spreads across Augustine’s face. “Incredible. Truly incredible. You must tell me your story, N. I’ve heard bits and pieces, of course, international news is handy that way—but Unova is terribly far from here, you know, and...”

N ends up spending a week longer in Kalos than he’d thought he would. 

-

The Lake of the Sunne is always cloudy, and according to a nice fisherwoman she’d met en route, a great power once slept deep within the temple that it encompasses. Touko spends the better part of her day poking through its cracks and crevices, mindful of warnings about the structural integrity of the ruins, and she finds all sorts of interesting wall carvings and inscriptions—some that she thinks Professor Burnet would be interested in, some that she snaps pictures of for her own benefit. The year she spent as Champion in Unova had seen her grow a fondness for the ancient myths and legends about the formation of the world.

When she had gotten around to meeting Professor Burnet, she had learned a good deal more about the worldwide legends, rather than just the Unovan ones. 

Alola is a hotspot for academics who enjoy these things. Touko doesn’t care too much for academia—she’d graduated high school early because it would get her out sooner and is working on an undergraduate degree in Pokémon care and technique development via a correspondence course, but that’s really about it. The degree will be useful for helping her Pokémon grow, and that’s all she cares about, for the most part. The scholars who spend their time in and around Alola’s ruins, however, are impressive, passionate, and well-spoken.

They’re utter nerds. Touko enjoys listening to them, if because of how keenly she tends to be reminded of N when they get that near-maniacal gleam in their eyes and regale her with the theory and philosophy of the excavation of ancient ritual sites and places of honor reserved for their mythical Pokémon.

For now, though, she’s alone. Happily so. The Lake of the Sunne keeps the air temperature a tad more temperate than some of the other places she’s explored around Alola, and she quite likes the tropical moisture. Mist hangs at the line between the lakebed and the surrounding jungle, and she’s sitting at the edge of the temple roof, content to simply... be.

She isn’t sure how long she sits there, not exactly. Long enough that when that low thrum of power she associates with the most powerful Pokémon she’s met fills the air she doesn’t immediately react—it could be Zekrom snoring. The sound of rustling wings and claws clacking on the ancient stone ground draw more of her attention, but still, she decides not to turn around. She knows she’s got a big, dopey smile on her face.

Zekrom lets himself out of his Pokéball. He roars in greeting, trying very hard to be dignified and proper, but she can hear his heart. He’s so incredibly excited.

When the sound of human feet hit the ground, her smile widens into a grin. She scoots over and pats the ledge next to her.

But instead of lanky legs appearing in her field of vision, she finds herself being scooped up from behind into arms that don’t shake, held by strong hands that pull her as close to him as possible. Touko laughs in delight and throws her arms around N’s neck, pressing an endless array of feather-light kisses to his cheek, his jaw, his nose, his lips. She buries her fingers in his hair. When she draws back, his flushed face combined with the look in his eyes makes her feel melty enough that she doesn’t care how dumb she must look. “Hi.”

He kisses her, soft but fierce, and she forgets about anything else for a very long moment.

“Hello,” he says when he draws back, taking in a few breaths. “Hi. Hello.”

“You found conditioner for your hair.” She tugs it lightly to emphasize and watches his pupils dilate.

N grins, unsteady but with a fledgling confidence, and it takes her breath away. “You look like you ran through a cloud of dust.”

“I kind of did,” she admits, briefly tightening her hold around her neck when he starts to put her down. He acquiesces to her unspoken request and sits himself down instead, only pausing to adjust for not having to hold her legs up any more. Something deep inside her nearly squeals in delight when he curls his arm around her waist instead of letting it dangle awkwardly near his side. He’s _learned!_ “I’ve been exploring the ruins below. Don’t think it’s been dusted in at least several hundred centuries.”

“Tell me about it?” he asks. Before she can say anything, he laughs (at himself?) and makes himself meet her eyes, the flush deepening a little in a way that is very interesting indeed. “I... I like the sound of your voice. And... I haven’t heard it in a while...”

She kisses him just for that, only breaking for air when she realizes that she’s pressing him down against the cool stone and if they go much further she’s going to have to explain some very embarrassing concepts to her Pokémon. He’s panting for air, dazed and happy, really, honest-to-god _happy,_ and Touko feels a warm thrill in her chest at the realization. “I don’t talk too much—my voice might crack—”

“I brought water,” he says, his eyes bright as he sits up and—very politely—scoots her bum down his legs a little, but gladly lets her keep leaning against him. “Besides, it sounds interesting. I’ve learned about the different mythologies of the regions I’ve visited, but I still know little to nothing about Alola’s, and you’ve been working with distinguished scholars. Even made discoveries of your own, I hear.”

“Well, if you know it all already... I might as well start at the beginning, right? I came here because I wanted to learn about the Tapus...”

They stay there long past nightfall, catching up until they’re both hoarse, eventually lying back side by side and watching as the clouds clear up and the stars shine through. This far out from the major cities, the sky is absolutely full of them. N points out constellations and talks about the scientific makeup of outer space, the mathematical formulas behind the discovery and charting of far-away star systems, his arm wrapped around her waist even though it’s got to be numb from being pinned under her for all that time, and Touko is so, so glad that he found what he was looking for. That the interest in math has taken on a new light, a new life, a passion and not just a coping mechanism.

She tells him so, and he considers that. “And you?”

“Me?” she says dumbly, blinking, and N is leaning over her in the starlight with serious eyes. 

“Your dreams,” he elaborates. “Your vision of the world. Did you make it the way you wanted things to be?”

Touko can’t help how much she’s smiling. “By being Champion, I got to learn more than I ever dreamed I would about people and their Pokémon. I got to go all over Unova and teach people about Pokémon, how to listen to their hearts, their feelings. You know how Nimbasa has the sports stadiums and the musical theater? I realized... if those were easier to access, people like Bianca, Pokémon like her Emboar, they’d have an easier time expressing themselves. Some of the work is still ongoing, but almost all the major cities have places to do things like that now, and they have the guidelines set in place. I got to make a difference, N. Did you know that there’s a growing number of people in Unova who are starting to live with Pokémon outside their Pokéballs? Whose Pokémon are staying with them as equals?”

“I didn’t,” N says. “Touko... I’m glad. That makes me happier to hear than I know how to say, but...”

“But?” she prompts. The way he nibbles on his lip is _distracting._

“...You still... left the Championship?” he asks, hesitant.

She laughs. “Is that what you’re worried about? Don’t worry.” She cradles his face with her hands and presses a quick kiss to his lips, because he’s here and she loves him. “I can still continue that work whenever I’m in Unova, as a former Champion—I asked. But I want to travel, too. I want to meet people and Pokémon everywhere, to make my world bigger. To help wherever I can. I’m carrying my dream with me.”

He’s silent for a long few moments. Then: “You’re amazing.”

“If I’m amazing, you’re amazing, too.” He starts to shake his head, but stops himself; instead he brushes her hair out of her eyes and tilts his head in a silent question. “You remember that message I sent you, right? I meant what I said. Every bit of it. You’re a hero.”

“I... I wasn’t seeking accolades,” he tells her. There’s shame somewhere beneath the softness. “Only absolution.”

Touko flicks his chin.

“Hey!”

She smothers a brief smirk and shakes her head at him. “The funny thing about the path is that sometimes, it’s a circle. And it ends up back where you are, and after a certain point only you can really make the decision as to whether or not you’ve walked far enough.”

“...You mean... only I can forgive myself?”

“Something like that,” she agrees. “For what it’s worth... everyone else forgave you a while back.”

“When?” N asks, sounding like he’s not sure if he really wants to hear the answer.

“Somewhere around the fourth time you took down a gang of Pokémon thieves to return Pokémon to children who’d been stolen from,” she says, and his face turns hot under her palms, because—as they both know—that’d been about three months into his journey.

-

By the time they get around to returning to Unova, months later, Nuvema is blanketed in a thin layer of snow and ice. The air is chilly in a way Touko doesn’t really feel until she and N dismount Reshiram, who croons approvingly over their winter gear and fluffs N’s hair before taking off to some unknown part of the forest for fun. Touko laughs. She’s been doing that a lot more than she ever has before, but N laces his fingers through hers, and she can’t seem to mind. He smiles more and means it when he’s with her, too, so she supposes they’re both pretty decent for each other.

It only takes a few minutes to make it to her door. Before she can fling it open and stride in like she owns the place, because she does, the door flings itself open for her. Her father, absolute mountain of a man that he is, has the widest smile she’s ever seen on his face. “Hey, kids.”

“Mr. White,” N says politely, and Touko has about two seconds to register that they know each other before her father is pulling them both into a bear hug. N makes a wordless, shocked noise; it cuts through her own surprise, startling a laugh out of her as she snakes one arm around her father and hugs back.

“Don’t be so formal,” her father says, sounding stern, but there’s a twinkle in his eye. “You helped me pacify Heatran. Twice. You’re welcome here, son.”

Touko grins against her father’s argyle sweater when N splutters something incoherent, but not unhappy. “Hey, Dad, can we go inside?”

“That might be a good idea,” he agrees. He ushers them both inside, kicks a bit of snowdrift back out, and shuts the door, slinging his arms around their shoulders to guide them into the living room, where her mother and Touya are talking with their hands (again) about something that Juniper discovered last week, if her eavesdropping skills are still functioning as well as she thinks they are.

Touya’s eyes widen when he spots N. “It’s you!”

“It’s... me?” N agrees with an almost comical caution, eyes wide. Touko takes his hand again and he squeezes hers gratefully.

“You skipped town before I could give you a reward,” Touya says. “Just give me a second! It’s up in my room.”

He dashes out of the living room.

“Welcome home, N,” her mother says with a smile.

Taking pity on him, Touko guides him to the loveseat and sits them both down. Her father catches her eye and raises a knowing brow. She just smiles at him and turns to N, who looks... well, like he’s been smacked by a Pidove, really. Fair enough—it’s not often that her family is all in the same place at the same time. “I didn’t know you’d met everyone already.”

“I didn’t know I’d met everyone already,” N admits sheepishly. “I... didn’t connect Touya’s appearance to yours... although the resemblance is striking.”

“He takes more after me, in some ways,” Touko’s mother comments, tucking her feet into her chair. Touko’s father takes a seat on the floor in front of her.

Upstairs, there’s the sound of something crashing to the ground. Touya yelps. A few moments later, he appears cradling an Egg against his chest. His Serperior slithers down behind him and immediately goes to her father, who nods in understanding and pats the space behind him. 

_My thanks,_ Serperior says, laying his head in her father’s lap.

“Don’t worry about it,” her father says.

Touya shoves the Egg into N’s hands and grins expectantly. “It’s an Eevee,” he explains. “My girlfriend’s Partner Pokémon had this Egg—you remember her, right? My girlfriend? Short hair, black jacket, Top Ranger—”

“I remember,” N says, dazed.

Touko rolls her eyes at her brother. “Go easy on him.”

“Oh, right, sorry.” Touya waves a hand. “Anyways, her Eevee remembers you very fondly, and asked if you would take care of this little one.”

N turns to Touko, eyes as wide as a Hoothoot, and really, she shouldn’t laugh. She _shouldn’t._ He’s already holding the Egg very carefully, as if there’s nothing quite so precious in all the world. “Do—does everyone in your family—can you all talk—to Pokémon?”

“I can’t,” her mother says.

Touya scratches his head. “I had to learn from Touko?” he offers. “And it’s really only the Pokémon I’m closest to.”

“Runs in the blood,” her father tells them, a gruff smile on his face at Serperior’s happy rumblings. “But Touko is the best of us. She could understand Serperior before she could walk.”

“I—I could too. I could understand my friend Zoroark. She, she raised me,” N stammers. His eyes are misty. The hand that isn’t cradling the Egg to his chest comes up to cover his mouth, and with some alarm, she realizes that both his hand and his mouth are trembling.

She tugs his hair, gently, but his eyes are focused on the Egg as if it might hatch by the sheer power of his will alone. “N?”

He rubs at his eyes, face reddening with shame. At showing weakness? Not for the first time, she experiences a powerful urge to find Ghetsis and strangle him within an inch of his life. His next words don’t help that desire to lessen terribly much. “I... thought I was the only one. For the longest time...”

Touya’s face softens as he pieces the things he must’ve seen together in his mind. Behind Touya, her mother and father exchange glances, and her mother hops off her chair to come over and put a hand on N’s shoulder.

“You’re not any more,” she says. “From now on, N, whenever you come back to Unova, come to Nuvema first. You can consider this your home. You’re wanted here.”

Touya and her father both make affirmative noises. 

Careful to mind the Egg, Touko embraces N when his control breaks and the tears start falling.

-

They stay in Unova for six months. Cheren and Bianca get to know N, taking time out of their busy schedules to come together and meet up; various Gym Leaders wander to Nuvema for one reason or another, usually to challenge Touko and her team to a battle, but all inevitably end up leaving with some new nugget of wisdom about their Pokémon, learned from N. Touya heads back to Almia, promising to bring his girlfriend with him next time. N learns to cook. Alder bothers to pick his old bones up and come around for tea. N looks very awkward until Alder takes him out back for a bit, and when they come back, they're both smiling.

When Touko hears word from Professor Burnet that fascinating things are going down in Alola, she and N are ready to go within a week.

When they leave, N embraces her mother and father, mumbling fervent thanks into their shoulders.

“Let me know how the Poffin recipe goes,” her mother says gently. N promises to call and show her.

Her father pats him on the back. “Who knows? I may just end up seeing you over in Alola. An old friend of mine has been seen there recently.”

“I’d like that,” N says softly.

Touko watches him bid another farewell to them before stepping back, bowing again, and turning to her. He takes her hand and rubs her left ring finger thoughtfully. 

“Ready?” she asks, her heart fluttering at the motion. He’s learned a lot about human customs since her parents became a freely accessible and abundant source of information...

He dips his head and smiles at her. “Yes. Let’s go.”

She waves to her parents, having already said goodbye beforehand. They wave back. Hand in hand with N, she ventures down the forest path to the clearing where Reshiram waits.

“I’d do this forever,” she says, and he glances at her. “Travel with you, all over the world. I can’t think of anything better.”

He swings their hands back and forth. “There could be something better.”

“But it wouldn’t be what I want,” she replies.

N smiles. “I know. I want to be together forever with you, too.”

“We could elope.” Touko grins when he laughs and shakes his head. “No?”

“I want to do things the right way,” he murmurs into her ear, some of that old shyness in his voice, as if it’s their own little secret. And maybe it is.

Still, she knows he’d never want to do anything less. “And if I ask you first?”

“’Yes’ is a right answer.”

She crushes him into a hug, deciding not to mention anything about her father’s heirloom ring hidden in a box in her bag just yet.


End file.
